


Tumblr JayRoman Requests

by MissNaya



Category: DCU
Genre: Blood and Gore, Bondage, Crossdressing, Daddy Kink, Fights, M/M, Medical Procedures, Rope Bondage, Snowballing, Suspension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-17 19:16:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10600458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissNaya/pseuds/MissNaya
Summary: A place to put all my Roman/Jason drabbles. Warnings will go in the chapter notes.





	1. “This tastes bitter…”

**Author's Note:**

> like my brujay ficlet collection, but for jayroman! I wanted to keep them separate because I know some people don't care about certain pairings but wanna see others. again, these are mainly from the [ask meme!](https://dicktofen.tumblr.com/post/159432913262/send-me-a-number-and-a-paring-and-ill-write-a)
> 
> warnings for this one: snowballing, daddy kink if you squint

“This tastes bitter…”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

“No, seriously. It’s kinda gross. You change your diet or something? You know, they say a lot of fruits help with that sorta thing.”

Roman sighs, tucking himself back into his pants. “You’re being overdramatic. Like usual.”

“Am, not! Here, try it!”

Jason, still with his mouth full of Roman’s cum, stands up and leans over him, sliding open the zipper at his mouth.

“Wh— Don’t you dare, boy—”

Jason’s eyes sparkle with the promise of a grin. What ensues is a battle of ducking heads and grabbing hands, peppered with more than a few grunted swears. But Jason wins out, and manages to shove his tongue in Roman’s mouth just long enough to smear a nice glob of cum in there. He pulls back with a victorious smirk, swallowing the rest of it down while Roman splutters.

“There, see? Not too great, is it?”

“Brat…” Roman glares up at him from where he sits, hunched over. “Don’t look so pleased with yourself.”

“Don’t dish out what you can’t take, old man.”

He moves to walk away, but strong arms catch him around the waist and pull him back into Roman’s lap.

“I’m old,” he says, “not decrepit. And you’re even crazier than I thought if you think I’m gonna let you walk out on me.”

“No,” Jason says, looping his arms around Roman’s neck and biting at the leather there. “Wouldn’t think that in a million years, pops.”


	2. "Will you just hold still?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: suspension bondage, dirty talk

“Will you just hold still?”

Roman’s voice has gotten progressively more annoyed throughout the course of their activities, but Jason will be damned if he lets that stop him. In fact, just to be a dick, he squirms some more, making himself sway in the air where he dangles from some ropes.

“No can do, daddy-o,” Jason says, testing the restraints for the fiftieth time. “Gotta make sure these won’t snap. Don’t wanna end up with any _more_ bruises ‘fore the night’s through.”

The set-up is different than what he’s used to, less “supervillain interrogation” and more “kinky Japanese BDSM.” Which, to be fair, is more what they’re going for tonight. There are ropes criscrossed artfully all over his body, pulling his arms and legs back into a hogtied position. He’s at least three feet above the ground, maybe more, with nothing but some ceiling-mounted hooks and a prayer to keep him up.

But he hasn’t slipped off yet, so Roman must know what he’s doing. Of course, that won’t stop Jason from giving him hell. He cranes his neck to try and get a better look as Roman ties off one last rope around his midsection.

“Remind me again what those extra ones are for?” he asks.

Roman sighs. “Decoration. Like I told you the first five times.”

“Yeah, but I still don’t understand,” Jason insists. “Why the big show? You’re just gonna fuck my brains out, right? Who cares what I look like after you get your cock in me?”

Roman clicks his tongue, circling around to Jason’s front. He cups his chin, far more gingerly than Jason’s come to expect. Or maybe he’s just used to Roman’s brand of firmness by now.

“ _I_ care,” he says. “It’s not about the act itself, but about the circumstances leading up to it. It’s about taking something pretty and slowly, methodically defiling it.”

Jason hides his excited shudder with a grin. “You think I’m pretty?”

Roman rolls his eyes and turns his back, running his fingers over a table filled with all sorts of tools and gadgets. Jason’s heart races just looking at them.

“Oh, yes,” he says. He picks up something long and leathery, but Jason’s neck aches, and he has to drop his head back down. “And I’m about to make you look even more beautiful.”


	3. “I’m not bothering you, am I?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is meant to be more Under the Red Hood era!
> 
> warnings: violence, weapons, choking, mentions of drug trafficking

“I’m not bothering you, am I?”

Roman glares between Red Hood and the mess of glass on the floor. The floor he was so ungracefully kicked onto after Hood burst through his window feet-first.

“What do you think.” His voice is dry, flat. It’s not even a question.

Though Hood’s mask is featureless save for the eyes, Roman can practically _hear_ the smile in his voice.

“Good! Then you won’t mind if you and me have a little chat,” he says, bending down. He steps on Roman’s wrist when he goes for his gun, then hauls him up by his collar. “Up you go. Man, have you been pigging out? You’re heavier than I remember.”

The one good thing about Roman’s face is that his teeth are always bared. He wishes Hood would wear a top with a lower neck; what he wouldn’t give to sink his teeth into the brat’s throat right about now. Instead, he settles for kicking out at him, but Hood shoves him against the wall and presses up against him too close for that to do much good.

“Why can’t you freaks just stay outta my damn business?!” he growls. He’s dangling about half a foot off the floor, pinned by his neck to the wall. Hood’s too freakishly strong for his own good. “If you got a problem with Batman, take it up with him! I’m sick of playing interference for the two of you.”

“Oh, no,” Jason says, deceptively friendly. “This little visit is all about you.”

“I’m jumping with joy,” Roman says. With one hand, he grabs Hood’s wrist. With the other, he goes for his hidden knife.

“Won’t be able to jump much longer if you keep sending your guys out to the schools.” Hood clicks his tongue, sounding for all the world like a disappointed schoolteacher. “We talked about this, Roman…”

“You think your word means shit to me?” Roman asks. “How cute.”

“So cute you could choke, right?” Hood asks, tightening his grip. A second later, Roman feels cool metal pressing against his side through his suit. Hood’s got a gun on him. “Now, drop the knife so we can talk all nice-like.”

Roman sighs and lets it fall. “Make it quick. I have some glass to clean up.”

He could swear he hears Hood smile again. “And some bodies.”

“Wha— Those were some of my best men out there, you little—!”

“Keyword being ‘were.’ Oh, and you might wanna call the fire department, see if they can get to your west side warehouse. Should be going up in flames right… about…” He glances at a clock on the wall. “Ooh, right on time.”

Roman spits out a bunch of expletives until Hood cuts him off with a squeeze of his hand.

“Now, let’s negotiate…”


	4. “You’re too damn cute.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: crossdressing, bondage, spanking (implied), kinda dubcon

“You’re too damn cute.”

“Roman?” Jason says. “Just so you know, I’m gonna kill you when I get out of this.”

What a way to wake up, with his wrists chained to a collar around his neck, wearing a skimpy maid’s dress all decked out with lace and leather. It’s got everything: the apron, the garters, the stockings and the uncomfortable high-heeled shoes. When Jason shifts, he can even feel some frilly panties, hardly big enough to fit him.

Roman, staring down at him with a glass of wine in one hand and the other shoved casually in his pocket, just chuckles.

“That’s what I thought you’d say.” He leans down and runs a hand over Jason’s thigh, up under his skirt. Jason shudders when Roman’s fingers dance just at the edge of his panties. “But if I get to see you walking around a little before I die, I think it’ll be worth it.”

Jason’s eyes darken. “And what’ll you do if I don’t?”

“Well,” Roman says, shifting his hand, sliding his palm over Jason’s half-bare ass. He gives it the lightest squeeze. “Servants who don’t do what they’re told have to be punished.”

Jason sucks in a breath, and gets the feeling that he’ll be outgrowing his underwear real soon.


	5. "Don't look down."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> working on these ask meme prompts again! this one got graphic.
> 
> warnings for blood, gore, and medical stuff, plus some disgustening smut

“Don't look down.”

Jason looks anyway. Most of his pant leg has been cut off by now, giving him a much better view of the gunshot wound in his thigh. It's big, gaping, and ugly, and the pain radiates up and down his leg every time he so much as breathes. He's been shot before, of course, but that doesn't soothe the pain in the same way Joker's thirtieth swing with the crowbar didn't hurt any less than the first.

Roman, kneeling between his legs with a med kit, sighs.

“It hurts more if you look,” he says. “Trust me.”

Jason huffs, displacing his bangs. He's sweating, shivering, trying his hardest not to go into shock.

“'M not lookin' away,” he insists. “You might shove a tracker in there or somethin'.”

Roman laughs, and even now, the low trill of it trails like silk-wrapped gravel to his core. He lifts up a pair of thin forceps, and Jason shivers.

“I can think of a few occasions where I could've done that already.”

“Shut up.”

“Last chance,” Roman says, forceps poised at the bullet hole. “Might want to close your eyes.”

Jason glares and huffs again. “I'm _fine._ ”

“If you insist.”

Roman's right, of course. Watching the forceps go in seems to increase the pain tenfold, particularly since the bastard doesn't have any anesthetic in his med kits. He clutches the edge of the chair until his knuckles go white, groaning through gritted teeth. The bullet is in deep, almost to the bone, and every centimeter is agony. Roman is impassive as he works, ignoring Jason's cries right up until the forceps tap the bullet.

Jason _screams._ The feeling of metal-on-metal reverberates through his leg, up through his bones until his teeth clack together and he nicks his tongue. He grabs Roman's wrist in a bruising grip he normally reserves for _other_ scumbag criminals, stopping him in his tracks.

“Fuckfuckfuck, _wait,_ ” he hisses, and despite his better judgment, forces Roman's hand back until the forceps are out. He breathes heavily, sweat coating his face, and Roman sits back on his heels and sighs.

“I told—”

“Don't even fuckin' say it.” Jason sucks in a deep breath and lets it out slowly, trying to will the fire in his leg to die down. “You've— You gotta have some whiskey or scotch or _somethin'_ around here, I swear to god...”

Roman shrugs. “Nothing. Like I told you the first time. This safehouse isn't exactly one of my high-priority ones, stock-wise.”

“I can see that.”

Jason bares his teeth, looking around the bare room for something, _anything_ to use as a distraction. Were he doing this himself, he'd suck it up and yank it out, but he doesn't want Roman to see him crying like a little girl.

Speaking of Roman, he's the only thing of note in the room besides a drafty window and a TV that doesn't work.

Call him crazy, but he's out of options.

“H-here, just... Not a word, okay?” Jason says, reaching down with one shaky hand to undo the button on his jeans. “Not a goddamned word.”

He feels Roman eyeing him up with interest, but blessedly, he just hums in agreement. Jason pulls down his zipper and reaches into his pants, giving in and letting his eyelids flutter closed. He gives himself a few strokes, but he's not even sure he can get properly hard right now, with all the blood he's lost.

He feels the tip of the forceps at his skin again, and says, “Wait.” Roman sighs, but Jason goes on, “Sc-scratch that. Talk. Like you do in bed.”

He hears the smirk in Roman's voice, knows it'll be there even before he opens his mouth. “Seriously?”

“Just _fucking_ do it.”

Roman chuckles, but, god help them both, he obliges. “You should watch how you talk to me, Red. Not just because I'm the one with the scalpels. Do you have any idea what I could do to you when you've got one leg out of commission? Foul-mouthed little boys certainly don't get any crutches.”

Controlling and violent as the idea is, it stirs something in Jason's gut. He licks his lips, while Roman circles his wound with cool, smooth metal.

“You look so damn pretty like this, I might be tempted to keep you that way as long as I can. I know how I'd do it. Do you want to hear?”

“Mhm.” Jason tosses sweat-slick bangs out of his face. His cock is starting to swell in his hand. Even despite his difficulties getting hard, it feels good, touching himself like this.

“I'd fingerfuck this cute little hole of yours,” Roman says, but the hole he touches is the one in Jason's leg.

He pushes the forceps in again, and Jason gasps. It still hurts like hell, but his arousal dulls the intensity of the pain. Mind over matter, isn't that right? He tries to think of the hand on his cock, of Roman touching him and biting him and fucking him, his mind all over the place even as Roman narrates for him.

“Mm, there it is, that's the expression I want to see,” he says. “Do you know how long I've wanted to chain you up? Not to my bed, oh no. To the wall, in a room where no one will be able to hear you scream. You look so incredible when you're bleeding, my boy.”

Jason makes a sound caught halfway between a yelp and a moan, and realizes Roman's touching the bullet again. He speeds up his hand, as hard as he can get now, and deliriously thinks this is good, he'll bleed out from his leg slower like this.

“More,” he rasps.

“God, I could bend you over right now. Look at you. I knew you got off on pain, but _this?_ ” He spreads the forceps to grab the bullet, and Jason whimpers, bucking weakly into his hand. “This is unreal. I normally get tired of a person after a few hours with them. You, however... I think I'd keep you for quite a while.”

“Daddy,” Jason says, because it's about all he can think of. Memories of much tamer romps with Roman flood his mind, trying to distract him from the sick, blood-soaked reality.

“That's right, boy, let me take care of you,” Roman says, beginning to pull the bullet out. More blood wells up beneath it, but Jason can hardly feel it leaking out with his legs already so wet. “Ooh, look, you're gushing for me already.”

“I, I, mm... M-my, uh... Nngh...” He doesn't know what he's trying to say. Sounds come out unbidden, and his wrist is cramping, but he refuses to stop stroking himself. He's past the point of no return, that point where logic and rationality cease to exist, nothing but animalistic arousal left in their place.

“Shhh, shh,” Roman coos. “Almost out. It's big, isn't it? Just the way you like it.”

Jason becomes faintly aware that he's drooling, head lulling to the side. He should probably be more concerned about blood loss. He should probably be more concerned about this whole situation, he thinks.

Then the bullet is out, and he can breathe again.

“There we go,” Roman says, dropping it into a shallow dish. He presses some sort of stinging cloth to Jason's thigh, mopping up the worst of the blood. “Such a good boy. I hope you're ready for your stitches.”

Jason thinks of more pain, more things inside him, more blood and sex and tar-thick obscenities dripping from the zipper near Roman's mouth, and all he can do is moan.

 


End file.
